


How We Hold On

by Space_and_Thyme



Series: You Are My Lucky Star [12]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 1945, 2017, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Boys In Love, Desperation, Dreams and Nightmares, Engaged Couple, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, I cried while writing that part, Its really just an excuse for tender smut, Light Angst, M/M, Making Love, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Steve has a nightmare, Top Steve Rogers, Usually top Bucky Barnes, You might cry at the opening scene but it gets better I promise, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-21 10:55:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18141278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Space_and_Thyme/pseuds/Space_and_Thyme
Summary: It's 1945. Despite the crash of the Valkyrie, Steve Rogers was never frozen. In fact, he was found three days after the wreck, sitting despondently on a piece of fuselage, and rescued. He made it home, back to Brooklyn, only to realize that Red Hook was never actually his home. The only home he's ever really known, is the man that he lost in the Alps the year previous. And it's killing him - everything reminds him of Bucky - Bucky's belongings are still everywhere in their shared apartment, and he swears he hears Bucky's voice wherever he walks. It's breaking his already broken heart.It's 2017, and Steve's soft whimpering wakes Bucky. Bucky in turn wakes Steve - Steve who can barely believe that Bucky is real. He needs to feel him, to force himself to understand that Bucky is right there with him. Bucky understands this completely, and gives Steve what he needs, the best way he knows how.





	How We Hold On

_1945._

_Even as the children were running around, shrieking their exuberance, even as the adults were screaming and celebrating in the streets, nothing changed the fact that there was a gaping hole in Steve’s breast. A hole where his heart once sat, now lost in a nameless ravine in the Alps._

_He’d made it back to Brooklyn, but Brooklyn was no longer his home. It was with a horrible weight in his belly that Steve realized, when it was already too late, that James Barnes was the only home that he had ever known, or cared for. Even the apartment that he’d grown up in, raised by Sarah Rogers, was nothing now – only a place – only a roof over his head. But living there was slowly killing him, too – because everywhere in that apartment were traces of Bucky._

_In that small space were traces and traces of the man that he’d lost – Bucky’s clothing was still in the chest of drawers in their bedroom, left over from before both of them deployed. The bottle of his cologne was still sitting on the vanity in the bathroom with a spare comb balanced at an angle on the top of it. In the small medicine cabinet, Steve knew that he would find the container of Brylcreem that Bucky used almost every day before his departure. Bucky’s pillow was still on the bed – and despite the time since it was last used, still smelled of the man’s natural musk, faintly overlaid with the scent of Brylcreem, and the lasting traces of his cologne._

_Steve had slept with that pillow hugged tightly to his chest the first night that he was home. And the second night. The third night, he’d put the pillow away, not because he wanted to let go of it, but because he wanted to keep what little of Bucky that he still had. He set the pillow aside, in the blanket chest at the foot of the bed, to retain the distinctly Bucky scent for as long as possible rather than let his own odor erode it. Steve lightly sprayed a spare handkerchief with Bucky’s cologne, and dabbed a small portion of Brylcreem onto it with his own comb. This perfumed fabric he set into the bottom of the chest as well, to permeate the bedding that was stored, and to help maintain the pillow. Still, it wouldn’t replace the soft skin-scent of his beloved that lingered on the pillow – once that was gone, so too would Bucky be. A breath, carried away by the breeze. A life barely longer than a blink of an eye – forgotten by all but those that knew him. And, once they were gone, James Barnes too, would be lost for the final time._

_It took Steve all of his courage just to wake up every morning and pull himself from the small bed – a bed that despite its diminutive size, had never felt so wide and empty. If he was being honest, he’d never intended to live beyond the crashing of the Valkyrie – he’d put it down into the ice so that he could rejoin his beloved. He wasn’t just mourning for his friend – he’d lost the love of his life, the man that he’d promised himself to – to marry in secret when they had the chance. But, they’d never had that ability. Bucky had been there one moment, and the next he was gone. Lost into the screaming void._

_It took everything for Steve to carry on, because although he had put the Valkyrie down into the ice, he’d been rescued. He’d lived through the crash, and had sat in shock, on a piece of fuselage on the ice, for three days with his transponder. Howard Stark and his team of rescuers found him on the fourth day, just sitting there completely blank. He was nearly catatonic when they found him._

_He hadn’t mean to live._

_He’d meant to join the love of his life in death._

_He’d meant to go home – to his_ real _home._

_Instead he’d found himself back in Brooklyn within a year. Back in the apartment that had once been the warm comfort against the cold winter, well… it had never been the apartment itself; only the man that had inhabited it with him._

_Free of the uniform, free of the shield, Steve was able to blend back into daily life. To become anonymous once again as he had mostly always been, even if he was no longer the slight man that he had been._

_As the children ran about the streets, like they always had, Steve wandered through the allies – just walking without purpose. He knew, like most days, if he kept walking he would eventually end up in Green-Wood cemetery, as he did every day that he wandered. There, he would find himself sitting between the graves of the only two people that mattered in his life: Sarah Rogers, and James Buchanan Barnes. But, unlike Sarah’s grave, Bucky’s was empty – his body never retrieved from the ravine, and thus, nothing to bury. Still, as he aimlessly wandered, he found himself in old neighborhoods; in old haunts. And haunts they were, for everywhere he walked, he could hear Bucky’s voice in his ear._

_“Come on!” Bucky’s warm tone laughed by his ear. “Cheer up, Stevie!”_

_It was an old memory, he was sure of it, playing on repeat. It had to have been, because he was alone in the world, and the phrases changed with every location._

_“Hey, punk. Breathe, okay? Breathe with me, you’re gonna be fine. You’re fine, Stevie.” The warm rumble in his ear was enough to both sooth his aching soul, and further break his heart. At least he no longer had the asthma to content with – he wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle an attack right now without Bucky’s gentle guidance. Bucky’s voice in his memory wouldn’t be enough._

_He could feel the tears burning in his eyes, and slowly rolling down his cheeks. He didn’t care that he was standing in the middle of the sidewalk near Clinton Wharf – he didn’t care that he was completely visible to those walking around him. None of that mattered right now._

_Let them see him cry. He wasn’t Captain America any more – only Steven Grant Rogers. Only Steve Rogers again._

_He’d never even had the chance to be_ Steve Barnes _in secret._

_“Shhh… shhh it’s alright, Stevie. I’m right here, right here Sweetheart.” This time Bucky’s voice was so low and clear in his mind, that he could almost see the man standing in front of him. He could almost feel Bucky’s warm palms cupping his cheeks and brushing away his tears. Could almost feel his breath in puffs against his lips._

_Steve’s eyes slid closed, and a few more tears rolled down from behind his closed eyelids. He just wanted to go_ home.

2017.

 

Bucky, for all of his years spent taking care of a sickly Steve Rogers, was a light sleeper. Even years of Cryostasis, and being put away without true restorative sleep, wasn’t enough to divest him of this trait. He’d spent too many years wrapped around a shivering, feverish, Steve all but begging and willing him to live. He had done this since he was ten years old – and done so happily, though it meant that he often fell sick shortly after Steve. He’d spent every winter sneaking into Steve’s room in the dead of night via the fire escape and the window – immediately crawling into the bed and wrapping his warmth around his friend’s small, shivering, body. He’d gladly made himself a barrier against the cold, and a tether to keep Steve here on earth – even if Sarah Rogers had repeatedly warned him that he could end up hospitalized himself. He never listened.

 

By now it was pure instinct to listen for any sign of distress from Steve as they slept. It was something that he would always do, he was sure of it.

 

The tiny whimpers were what broke through the filmy haze of his sleep. He kept still for a moment, listening closely. When the same pathetic, small, noise broke the near silence of their bedroom again, Bucky slowly turned to look back over his shoulder at his lover.

 

Steve was curled in on himself, his back facing Bucky’s. His shoulders were up around his ears, and the fetal position was at such odds with his stature and his normal sleeping pose, that Bucky instantly knew something was wrong.

 

He rolled over slowly so that he didn’t shake the bed or make it creak. Bucky settled close to Steve, and watched him for a moment, his eyes already readjusted to the darkness in the room. As he watched, it became unerringly clear that Steve was dreaming, and that it wasn’t remotely pleasant.

 

“Bucky…” the name was barely more than a whimper, half sobbed, and quiet enough that had Bucky not long ago learned to listen, he would have missed it.

 

Bucky lifted himself up, bracing himself on his right arm as he looked down at his fiancé. There were tears rolling down Steve’s face.

 

“Come on!” Bucky forced himself to sound light and airy – not wanting to infect what was already likely a nightmare with his own worry. “Cheer up, Stevie!” he half chuckled softly as he rolled Steve off of his right side so that that man was now lying on his back.

 

The change in position didn’t seem to help the way that Bucky had intended – in his experience, rolling Steve usually eased him from a nightmare and into a different dream. This time his breath seemed to hitch – a soundless little sob that cut through Bucky’s heart.

 

Bucky leaned in close, speaking softly and directly into Steve’s ear this time. “Hey, punk. Breathe, okay? Breathe with me, you’re gonna be fine. You’re fine, Stevie.” He gently stroked Steve’s blond hair back off of his forehead as he watched him, looking for further sign of distress.

 

While he wasn’t getting any worse, the tears were still rolling down Steve’s cheeks, and he was still obviously crying in his dream. “Buckyyy…” the miniscule and quiet whine came again, as Steve seemed to hiccup in his sleep – trying to breathe through his tears.

 

Bucky couldn’t take it any longer. He shifted himself up off of his right hip and levered himself over, slowly and smoothly, until he was positioned between Steve’s slightly parted thighs. He lowered himself down gradually, until the two of them were lying belly to belly, chest to chest – letting his solid weight press down on Steve and calm him. He raised both hands, and gently cupped Steve’s face in his palms. His thumbs, one warm and the other cool, tenderly brushed the tears away.

 

“Shhh… shhh it’s alright, Stevie. I’m right here, right here Sweetheart.” Bucky crooned lowly, his lips almost touching Steve’s. He leaned in a fraction closer as his eyes slowly slid shut. He brushed his mouth sweetly against Steve’s – tasting the salt of his sorrow with a faint brush of his tongue. His thumbs continued to lovingly stroke the curve of Steve’s jaw as he eased back from the discreet kiss. He waited a quiet moment, before kissing Steve again, slowly and sweetly.

 

In his dream, Steve could faintly taste the traces of the last kiss that he and Bucky had shared – in private, the morning before the mission that tore them apart. Could feel the brush of Bucky’s nose tip against his own – could feel the soft pressure of another kiss. His brows furrowed slightly as the scene of Brooklyn, 1945, faded away into darkness.

 

Steve lingered for a moment in the oblivion between sleep and wakefulness. The warm weight draped over him, like a weighted blanket, slowly filtered into his mind and started his pathway back to consciousness. The juxtaposition of the warm and cool sensations on his face started to dawn on him, and at last he slipped fully into consciousness as Bucky’s sweet tender kiss pressed to his mouth.

 

Steve hiccupped slightly as his eyes opened widely – drinking in the sight of his fiancé lying against him; flesh and titanium hands lovingly cradling his jaw. He gasped without meaning to, breaking the sweet kiss. Without warning, Steve threw his arms around Bucky’s back, gripping him tightly as he ducked his head and buried his face into the warm flat plane of Bucky’s breast; his crown just under his lover’s jaw, while his nose pressed into the valley between Bucky’s pectorals through his A-shirt. He gave Bucky no time to adapt, quickly rolling them both until Bucky collapsed against the mattress and the wall of shared pillows with his arms wrapped, anchored, around Steve. He felt the cool metal palm settle gently between his shoulder blades, as Bucky’s warm right arm wrapped lovingly around his neck and settled his hand soothingly on Steve’s temple – stroking his hair as he cradled Steve in his embrace; grounding Steve.

 

Steve was still so completely lost in the sorrow of his dreaming that he hadn’t noticed Bucky shushing him quietly with sweet nothings the entire time – even while Steve manhandled him down into the pillows to bury himself as firmly in Bucky’s warmth as he could manage.

 

Bucky pressed a kiss into Steve’ golden hair, before slowly kissing down his forehead and across the ridge of his brow. He kept going, softly trailing kisses down the side of Steve’s face until he reached his lips again. Though he was still clinging to Bucky as hard as he could, Steve leaned up eagerly for the kiss. He crushed his lips against Bucky’s, immediately tonguing at the seam of his fiancé’s lips, and licking into his mouth the second Bucky opened up for him. Bucky’s warm right hand moved, and cradled Steve’s jaw affectionately, while the cool metal of his left hand soothed Steve’s heated flesh.

 

Steve shuffle, pushing himself slightly onto his knees so he could press in closer to Bucky’s warmth – digging his fingers tightly into the bedding directly under Bucky’s ribs for leverage. Bucky’s jaw dropped open slightly as Steve sucked desperately on his lover’s tongue; eliciting a low moan from him as his metal hand tightened into a fist – gripping the back of Steve’s t-shirt.

 

Steve nearly followed Bucky when his lover pulled back to breathe. Panting softly, Bucky closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against Steve’s, as he lovingly nudged his nose against his. Steve’s softly panted breaths matched Bucky’s, his lips barely a fraction of an inch from his as Steve squeezed his eyes closed. He tried to focus on the feeling of Bucky right here with him, but the hole in his heart was still gaping in a Bucky-shaped rift.

 

“Don’t let go of me…” Steve whispered quietly. “Please dear God, don’t let me lose you again… I can’t do it.”

 

Bucky held his breath a moment, to calm the heartfelt little sob that wanted to break free of his lungs in sorrow for the way Steve had crumbled after his fall. He swallowed, pushing the sadness away as he caressed Steve’s cheek with his thumb again. “Sweetheart, I’m right here. You’ve got me – I’m alive. And I’ll be right by your side – ‘til the end of the line. Already promised ya that, Bub.”

 

Steve nodded his head, but Bucky could still feel the tension in his body. He eased back a breath, and removed his hands from Steve, only long enough to reach down and grab the hem of the A-shirt he’d been sleeping in. He pulled the fabric off over his head, and tossed it to the side of the bed; his long dark hair was a little disheveled, but he didn’t have the time to finger comb it smooth. He didn’t even have time to lower his arms after tossing the shirt, before Steve was on him.

 

The moment Bucky pulled off his shirt, revealing long expanses of olive-toned skin, something in Steve snapped. He surged forward again, desperately wrapping his arms around Bucky’s ribs under his arms. His embrace was almost crushing as he pressed closer – trying to climb into Bucky’s lap as he pushed him into the plush wall of pillows. Steve kept trying to press kiss after kiss to Bucky’s mouth, but it was less of a kiss and more of a desperate clash of teeth and lips.

 

Bucky snorted slightly, trying to keep himself from laughing. Steve’s desperation wasn’t actually funny to him, it was only that the speed at which it happened had caught him off guard. He pressed himself back into the pillows and against the headboard as he stretched his legs out – easing the slight ache in his muscles from the cramped positions he’d been in. He let his knees fall open as Steve pressed closer into the V of his thighs. As Steve all but crushed his ribs in his tight embrace, Bucky grabbed the back of Steve’s t-shirt, and forcibly pulled it up and off – making Steve pull away from him for a moment. He tossed the shirt aside, and put his hand on the back of Steve’s head before lightly pushing Steve downward.

 

Steve went without question – brought face to face again with Bucky’s warm clavicle and breast again. He could bury himself in the nook of Bucky’s neck, never move and be happy. He nuzzled at the tanned skin in front of him, nosing softly at the sparse dark hair, before lifting his jaw and finding Bucky’s beating pulse with his lips. He scraped his teeth over the spot, making Bucky shift and groan softly with pleasure, before he sealed his lips over it. He sucked on his skin, as hard as he could manage – drawing the blood to the surface and making a dark bruise bloom as he scraped his teeth against it again. Beneath him, Bucky shifted restlessly and ran his left hand down Steve’s spine, as his right hand knotted in his golden hair. He tugged at Steve’s boxer briefs impatiently, as his cock began to thicken.

 

Steve groaned into Bucky’s throat, and started eagerly licking at the tendons in his neck; dragging his tongue through the hollow at the base when he felt Bucky’s erection beginning to nudge at his hip. He shifted his hips, trying to wiggle his way out of the underpants that Bucky was tugging at, but the motion didn’t work. All he managed to do was grind down against his fiancé’s pelvis. Bucky hiccupped and moaned lowly. His back arched, bowing his body and automatically lifting his hips. Steve scraped his teeth down over the cliff of Bucky’s clavicles, groaning as he went. He let go of Bucky with his right arm – enough to move his hand and tug the soft black cotton boxer briefs down. He revealed Bucky’s Adonis lines, the peaks of his hip bones, the very top of his thighs, and the patch of neatly groomed dark hair slowly, before he was forced to remove his other arm from around his lover’s ribs to go any further. Steve shifted onto his knees, only long enough to tug the black cotton all the way down. He swallowed tightly, nearly needing to blink back tears that were a combination of heartache and arousal as he watched Bucky’s cock bounce free and settle against his taut abdomen.

 

Steve settled back down against Bucky, lying as close as he could manage.

 

Tilting his hips, Bucky lifted his legs the moment Steve discarded his boxers. He settled his feet on Steve’s lower back, and gripped the elastic of Steve’s own boxer briefs with his toes. Slowly sliding his feet down over Steve’s buttocks, and over the back of his thighs, Bucky pulled he undergarment off- laughing softly as Steve scrambled to kick the offending fabric off of his legs once Bucky had brought them down to his ankles. Steve nearly fell off the bed in his haste to be completely free of his clothing, and would have if Bucky’s iron grip on him hadn’t been present. He didn’t care, he just wanted – no, needed – to be closer. To feel Bucky’s body with his – to feel them united in the act – a physical representation of their union – their promise. Together against the world.

 

Steve shifted, immediately kissing and biting down the centre of Bucky’s chest – nearly frantic and needy. His fingernails dug sharply into Bucky’s flesh- leaving crescent moon shapes on his hips as he quickly moved down Bucky’s body – forgoing gentleness for speed.

 

Groaning softly, Bucky carded his right hand back through Steve’s hair – the engagement ring that Steve had _finally_ remembered to give Bucky flashed softly in the pale moonlight that seeped in from the gap in the curtains of their large window. Steve moved, putting his arms under Bucky’s legs, until his lover’s thighs were resting on his shoulders. Bucky knew where Steve was going – going too quickly. He shook his head, “Stevie, no-“

 

Steve didn’t hear him, although he was the first to admit (well, Steve and Bucky were tied for first place) that consent meant everything. He was so focused on grounding himself by tasting Bucky’s skin, that he was all but deaf to the rest of the world.

 

When Steve continued on his course, ducking low, Bucky tightened his grip on Steve’s hair and pulled him back just as Steve’s tongue barely brushed against the head of Bucky’s cock. “I said _no_ , baby.” Bucky forced Steve to look up at him – his silver eyes meeting Steve’s confused and lust fogged cerulean ones.

 

Steve swallowed tightly, his hair still tightly held in Bucky’s hand. “Did I do something wrong?”

 

“Too fast.” Bucky stated bluntly. “ _Much_ too fast.”

 

“Buck-“

 

“No, Stevie.” Bucky released his grip on Steve’s hair, and sat up slowly, slipping his legs off of Steve’s shoulders. Steve made a slight whine of worry, one that Bucky knew was unintentional, as he sat back. But, Bucky didn’t let him go far. He gently grabbed Steve’s hips, and maneuvered them, until he had turned his fiancé and began pushing him down against the bed.

 

Steve went willingly, though his eyes were wide with slight fear as he looked up at his lover. He kept his hands to himself – afraid that Bucky didn’t want his touch.

 

Bucky settled between Steve’s thighs again, and laid fully against Steve. His hands raised, and he laid his palms tenderly over Steve’s chest; he rubbed at the dense muscle as he leaned in and caught Steve’s lips in a gentle, chaste, kiss. He kissed him several times, eyes closed, and tugged lightly at Steve’s lower lip with his teeth. Beneath him, Steve shivered and groaned softly.

 

Bucky pulled back, as he kept rubbing Steve’s pectorals soothingly. “Listen to me, Steven. It’s okay; I’m right here. I’m not goin’ nowhere. I’ve got ya.”

 

Steve squeezed his eyes closed, and nodded as he tried to slow his breathing.

 

“Now, lemme take care’a ya.” Bucky smirked to himself and leaned in, kissing Steve tenderly. Steve couldn’t help himself, lifting his arms and wrapping them around Bucky’s shoulders to hold him close as they kissed.

 

Each shared kiss left a soft, slick, smooch of a sound that began to ease the tightness in Steve’s chest. He moaned softly into Bucky’s mouth as he relaxed; his heartrate lowering and a sense of calm finally, slowly, washing over him – starting from all the places where Bucky’s bare flesh was touching his.

 

It started tentatively, Steve was still not sure if he was fully allowed to touch now that he’d been told to let Bucky take care of him, but he leisurely ran his hands up and down Bucky’s back – feeling the shifting of the broad muscles. Bucky hummed softly as he smiled briefly against his lips, showing approval for the easy touches.

 

Steve’s heart was fluttering – happy little tremors of pleasure – as Bucky slowly laved his tongue along his. He could still taste the faint trace of the peppermint toothpaste Bucky had used before bed, hours passed. More importantly, under all that, was the distinctly Bucky taste that he’d been all but desperately craving since he woke up from his nightmare. If only he’d given it enough time, he’d have been able to revel in it sooner. He could smell the honey dew scent of the conditioner that Bucky’d used in the shower that morning, as the curtain of his dark hair hung down around the both of them – shielding them from the outside world. Steve shivered slightly, a tremble of pleasure, as he focused on all the sensory input that letting Bucky take control offered to him.

 

Against him, Bucky’s body was a warm weight that set his nerves to ease. His skin was warm and velvet-soft over every inch – even the wicked old scars that perhaps would have repulsed another. For Steve, they were simply proof that Bucky had made it through their years apart. He swallowed tightly around the lump in his throat as he eased back just far enough to draw breath.

 

Humming tunelessly, Bucky nuzzled Steve's nose, before he kissed at the corner of his mouth, and sucking softly on Steve’s bottom lip. He shifted his weight, bringing his knees under himself so that he could use the leverage, to stroke his hands over Steve’s torso. Steve’s hands tentatively settled on his thighs, and Bucky pulled back from the kiss. Steve immediately moved to remove his hands, but Bucky laid his palm over Steve’s, and pressed his hand back down onto the dense muscle of his thigh. “You can touch me, Stevie. Anywhere ya want’a touch. But, we have all night. There’s no rush.”

 

“You’re not … mad?” Steve breathed softly – his forehead pressed to Bucky’s.

 

“Mad?” Bucky snorted slightly. “No, I’m not mad.” He leaned down and kissed him again, as Steve’s hands began to tentatively trail up and down the heavy, dense, muscles of his thighs.

 

Feeling the thick muscle under his hands, Steve couldn’t help but groan. If there was one part of Bucky’s new physique that constantly turned him on, it was his thick, firm, thighs. He squeezed the muscle as he sucked sweetly on Bucky’s tongue.

 

Bucky moved down slowly, kneading lightly at the muscles over Steve’s ribs as he stroked his hands down. He ducked his head in, and nuzzled at the shell of Steve’s ear; his breath was a warm huff, tickling Steve’s skin. He kissed softly down from his ear, leaning in just a little to lick and suck at the sensitive place just behind Steve’s ear, eliciting a low groan from the man under him as he shivered with lust. Bucky smirked to himself, and sweetly began sucking tiny blooms of colour onto Steve’s clavicle. He could feel Steve’s hips shifting a little restlessly – his fiancé’s erection was niggling against the crease of his thigh already.

 

Bucky kissed his way tenderly over Steve’s strong chest – sucking small love bites into the pale flesh, and teasing his nipples with his teeth and tongue until they stood, pebbled, straining for attention. His hands stroked and pet Steve’s skin at random intervals, simply feeling the smooth flesh beneath his hands. Steve’s hips were starting to roll, unbidden, as his pleasure crept higher. He was flushed with arousal, lighting him up from crown to groin a vibrant pink colour. Steve groaned, holding onto Bucky’s ribs much more gently this time, as his rolling hips stroked his sensitive cock in the velvet-soft, warm, crease between Bucky’s thigh and groin. The movement was slow, and lazy, but necessary.

 

Bucky’s hands were busy, gently stroking the backs of his fingers over Steve’s ribs, lightly framing his hips, stroking Steve’s thighs and calves, as he kissed his way lovingly down Steve’s sternum at a leisurely pace. With permission already given to touch where he wanted, Steve lifted one leg, and hooked his calf over Bucky’s, as his hand drifted down between them. His hand stroked down – lightly brushing his fingers down the front of Bucky’s torso, as he went. His fingers were practiced, if still a little careful, as he ran one fingertip along the twitching, bobbing, length of Bucky’s erection. His lover sighed pleasantly against his skin where he was kissing Steve’s abdomen affectionately. Steve traced the thick vein on the underside of Bucky’s cock, slowly, with teasing touches as he kept rolling his hips slowly. He ran his fingers back down, back and forth, several times before Bucky lightly nipped at his upper abdominals.  Steve almost laughed, but the moment was still too weighted – even if now it was an enjoyable weight.

 

Bucky lifted his right hand. Bringing it to his face, he licked a long stripe over his palm and his fingers, before bringing it back down to Steve’s pelvis. He wrapped his fist around Steve’s swollen cock, and slowly began to work it from root to tip. Each long stroke produced a low, wet, squelch that seemed obscenely loud in the quiet of their bedroom.

 

Steve squeezed his eyes shut, fighting back a moan. He lifted his hand and dug his teeth into the meat between his thumb and index to muffle whatever sound that wanted to slip from him as Bucky’s soft, but gun calloused, hand teased at every sensitive inch of him.

 

Bucky’s titanium fingers lightly tickled Steve’s hip, and stroked back upward to his pectorals, as he kissed and licked Steve’s abdominals. His warm hand continued to move against Steve’s aching flesh. He hummed as he lightly dragged his teeth against Steve’s abdomen – enjoying Steve’s restless movements and shivered moans. He licked, slowly, up the valley of his abs back up over his sternum. In one long stripe he licked up Steve’s torso and up over the straining tendons in his neck – making his fiancé whimper into his hand.

 

“Bucky…” Steve groaned, but the sound was soon interrupted. Bucky nuzzled him softly, before kissing him slowly and tenderly – a languid swirl of tongues and plush lips.

 

 Steve sighed happily against his mouth as the hand that had been clasped between his teeth now settled on the back of Bucky’s neck. His fingers tangled in Bucky’s dark locks, scratching his nails lightly at his scalp.

 

Bucky smiled softly against Steve’s lips as he kept kissing him – a pleasured shiver running down his spine at the feeling of Steve’s nails against his scalp. Without breaking the kiss, he slowly released his grip from Steve’s erection – making the man under him groan and shift restlessly – as he reached to the side table. He pulled the drawer open, and fished out the half-full bottle of KY.

 

Steve shifted under him, lifting his legs to wrap them around Bucky’s waist as Bucky dropped the bottle by his hip. Steve wiggled his hips enticingly. Bucky chuckled slightly, the kiss broken by his lips still against Steve’s. “Not this time, punk.” He nipped at Steve’s bottom lip and nudged Steve’s legs from around his waist as he sat back on his heels.

 

Steve’s brows furrowed, until he watched Bucky pop open the lube bottle with a sharp _snap!_ Of the plastic cap and poured it out over his fingers. He curled his fingers into is palm, warming the slick for a moment as he shifted his position. He widened his knees, his silver eyes locked on Steve’s, as he leaned forward into Steve’s breathing space. He dropped his spine in a feline nature as he lifted his hips, keeping his weight pressed into the mattress with his knees.

 

Steve’s eyes widened a little in surprise, as Bucky’s half-lidded gaze focused on him. The metal left hand settled softly against Steve’s neck – the cold titanium cooled his heated, sweaty, skin as Bucky’s thumb pressed lightly into the hollow of Steve’s throat. Steve swallowed around the slight lump that had formed in his throat, as he watched Bucky uncurl his right hand, and slowly reach behind himself with his slicked fingers. His cock twitched with interest as he watched his lover’s flesh shoulder shift, telegraphing the slow, easy, movements of his hand. Bucky, panting slightly with arousal, nudged the kitten-like point of his nose against Steve’s.

 

Steve groaned slightly, lifting his hands to cup the back of Bucky’s neck, as the dark hair parted and fell in a cloud around the two of them. He stroked his fingertips over the centre line, tracing Bucky’s cervical spine, as he flicked little kitten-licks against Bucky’s plush bottom lip, before sucking it easily into his mouth. His hands slowly spread out from Bucky’s neck, tracing their way to the peaks of both flesh and metal shoulders, before he changed his position and stroked his way slowly down Bucky’s extended spine. His right hand settled on, and gripped, Bucky’s strong hip while the left tentatively stroked soft, almost tickling, touches down Bucky’s right arm – following it as far as he could reach behind the man from his position under him. He swallowed tightly. With his hand on Bucky’s lower forearm, he could still feel the shift of the muscles and tendons as Bucky began prepping himself.

 

Bucky shifted, crawling forward on his knees just a little. He thrust his left arm under the pillows that Steve was lying on, as the fingers of his right hand slowly massaged the ring of tight muscle at his entrance. He leisurely began to press the tip of his first finger inside, as he panted softly against Steve’s neck. Beneath him, Steve shuddered and moaned as if _he_ was the one being touched. He turned his head and nuzzled at the metal forearm next to his head.

 

“So good, Sugar.” The natural whiskey-gravel of Bucky’s voice had lowered, and he rumbled against Steve’s skin. “Gonna make ya feel so good – Gonna give ya exactly what ya need to remind you I’m here with ya.” He panted soft moans with every breath as he worked his finger inside himself. His lips smacked a nearly failed kiss to Steve’s as he soon pushed the second slicked finger within himself – shivered with pleasure as he lightly brushed over his prostate when she shifted the angle of his hips.

 

Bucky shifted again, lifting himself more upright onto his knees as he withdrew his metal hand from under the pillows. He watched Steve, even as he scissored his fingers within himself - feeling the tight muscle relax incrementally. After a moment of watching Steve’s fully dilated eyes watching him with pure fascination and an unshielded want, Bucky lifted his left hand and licked his metal palm. This, he brought back down to Steve’s near-purple flushed cock. He stroked two delicate caresses over Steve’s testicles, making the man shudder and groan, even as he pushed the third finger into himself. He tossed his head back, dark hair flying like a banner, as he groaned lowly. His left hand circled around Steve’s cock, and worked gently – the juxtaposition of the cold metal against his heat-flushed flesh made Steve shudder and moan lowly – his hips snapping up to feel the smooth ridges of Bucky’s metallic palm glide over him.

 

After several long minutes, Bucky withdrew his fingers from himself – ignoring the feeling of being empty- and sat back on his heels. He released his hold on Steve’s straining cock, and reached again for the bottle of KY. Steve pushed himself up slightly, his hands on the mattress by Bucky’s knees. Bucky paid him little mind as he poured another small palm full of lubricant into his warm right hand, letting it heat up before he used it on Steve.  He leaned down and nudged his nose against Steve’s once more, his voice barely more than a husky whisper as he spoke. “Move up closer to the headboard, Stevie.”

 

Steve, barely able to think through the haze, simply nodded and followed direction – shuffling back slowly until the wall of pillows supported his back mostly upright. His hands automatically fell to Bucky’s muscular thighs as the man followed him. He started immediately stroking and gripping at the meat of his thighs as he swallowed almost nervously. His throat was dry.

 

“You’re doing good, baby. So good.” Bucky hummed affectionately as he slicked his lubed palm over Steve’s cock with a few good tugs.

 

“Bucky…” Steve sighed softly, still lost in the haze of arousal.

 

“I’ve got you, Sweet Boy. I’ve got you.” Bucky’s grasp settled at the base of Steve’s cock, holding him firm and still as he swung his leg over Steve’s waist. He twisted at his lower spine, glancing back as he nestled the head of Steve’s throbbing erection against his entrance. Beneath him, his fiancé gasped softly, like the breath had been punched from his lungs. If Bucky wasn’t already aware that the asthma was long defeated, he might have been worried.

 

With the strength of his thighs, Bucky controlled his slow descent, turning forward again as he pressed both of his palms against the top of the headboard. He dropped his forehead down against Steve’s, as he stilled with Steve seated halfway into him. The stretch and burn was a little more than he’d been expecting, but it passed in a moment. Steve was trembling, his fingers twitching against Bucky’s hips – clearly wanting to grip tightly, but also unwilling to do anything more than lovingly pet his skin. Bucky lowered himself the rest of the way, until he was flush against Steve’s lap with the man fully seated within him.

 

The feeling of Bucky, warm and velvet-soft wrapped completely around him, made Steve exhale slowly to keep his head. His calloused palms slowly scraped their way up Bucky’s flanks, as his fiancé set to slowly rocking them together. He hiccupped, as the realization that he could have lost this – lost this man permanently – spread through his periphery. His hands left Bucky’s waist, and his arms wrapped around his ribs – pulling him closer as he sat up a little more – burying his face into the heated, sweaty, valley between Bucky’s pectorals.

 

Bucky let go of the headboard, and curled himself over enough that he could wrap his arms around Steve’s head gently – hugging him as the man stayed buried in his chest. He pet Steve’s golden hair, and pressed a kiss to his crown as he began rocking his hips a little more firmly.

 

Steve gasped against his chest as Bucky’s movements sparked a rise of pleasure in him – colours bloomed behind his eyes. He turned his head, laying his cheek and ear against Bucky’s breast – listening to the steady, strong, beating of his heart as his arms remained wrapped around him.

 

Bucky shifted and stooped down, hips still rolling and rocking; stroking Steve’s cock inside of himself. He framed his lover’s jaw with both hands and kissed him hungrily as they rocked together. Steve’s grasp on him tightened as he licked his way into Bucky’s mouth- sucking eagerly on his tongue as he pumped his hips up, meeting Bucky’s rocked thrusts. He swallowed Bucky’s moan with an unclassifiable bliss, his fingers digging into the meat of Bucky’s back as he moved slightly, trying to angle his hips so that his cock could stroke over Bucky’s prostate with every thrust.

 

Bucky jerked suddenly, and Steve couldn’t help the satisfied grin he pressed against Bucky’s mouth as the kiss was broken with a gasp. Bucky’s volume increased – low but loud, drawn out, moans of pleasure as they rocked together.  Steve lowered his head to Bucky’s chest again, nosing at the fine patch of dark hair between his pectorals as Bucky reached and grasped the headboard with one hand again – the other settled on the back of Steve’s head and held him close. Steve’s hands dropped to Bucky’s hips once more, this time gripping tightly. He didn’t direct Bucky’s hips, but he held on as Bucky’s rolling pelvis picked up its pace and force. With his face against Bucky’s  undulating torso, he licked over his fiancé’s sternum, trailing from the base of his pecs, up to his clavicle – ending each stroke by nudging his nose against the hollow at the base of Bucky’s throat.

 

Steve’s arms shifted, and he wrapped them around Bucky’s ribs again, hugging him as he suckled a nearly black mark against his neck- tasting the salt-sweat nature of Bucky’s skin and reveling in the simple pleasure of it. He could almost sob with the rising pleasure - with each rocking thrust of their hips, Steve could feel the tightening of the heated coil in his lower belly – felt the matching pleasure in his fiancé as Bucky’s grasp in his hair tightened a little, and the power of his hips increased. He was fascinated by the rippling of Bucky’s abdominals.

 

Bucky’s otherwise neglected cock bounced between them with each strong thrust. He removed his hand from the headboard, and from Steve’s hair – placing them instead on Steve’s shoulders as he straightened and arched his spine, throwing his head back. The ends of his dark hair brushed against the space between his shoulder blades as he closed his eyes in pleasure.

 

Steve watched him, utterly fascinated and love-struck, for a moment. Watched the way his lover’s body flexed like an apex predator – watched the way the flush of his arousal spread over his chest, decorating his golden skin. He licked his palm – not wanting to take the time to open the KY again- and circled his hand around Bucky’s straining, flushed, cock. He leaned forward, latching onto Bucky’s nipple and sucking enthusiastically as his hand worked up and down his shaft. Bucky gasped like the air was knocked out of his lungs, and there was a split second pause before a deep and animalistic moan flooded from his pink lips. His right hand shot up, and knotted itself into his dark hair – gripping for purchase as his movements became a little erratic and his back flexed.

 

“Stevie… Stevie…” Bucky panted softly as he bounced on Steve’s thighs – moving harder, and faster, trying to tip Steve over the edge.

 

Steve’s breath kept hitching the closer he came to his orgasm. His teeth scraped desperately against Bucky’s chest, before he started nipping and biting. Tears of arousal and emotion welled behind his tightly closed eyes. “Bucky…Bucky…” he rumbled against his lover, like a mantra meant to keep him anchored here on earth, and the sound vibrated against and through Bucky’s sternum – making his nipples peak again.

 

Steve dug the nails of his free hand into Bucky’s shoulder blades, and dragged them down – scratching pink lines that would be healed long before morning. He barely noticed he was doing it, as Bucky’s hand knotted into his hair and tugged, not to pull him off, but because he knew Steve enjoyed the slight sting of the pain. Steve’s hips had lost all rhythm, and he knew he was on the edge. The night had been too much for him to last any longer. Too much emotion, and too much competent attention from his beloved. He was shuddering, shivering slightly as his blood thrummed burning hot in his veins. He dug his toes into the bedding, trying for more purchase, though Bucky clearly had the upper hand here.

 

Bucky wiggled his hips side to side, a small movement, but it threw Steve over the edge. He jerked – spine arching and hips shooting up – managing to lift Bucky with them as he scrabbled against the mattress with his hands, before latching his grip back onto Bucky’s strong hips – holding him still as he rode out his orgasm – coming hard inside his fiancé. Bucky gasped and groaned – the position Steve held him at – mid thrust – had the head of Steve’s cock pressed firmly against his prostate. The throbbing, pulsing, of Steve filling him, and the constant stimulation, finally threw Bucky over the edge himself. He hiccupped, gasping for air, before crying out loud enough in pleasure to be heard outside of their bedroom (thank god for sharing a private floor) as he arched his spine – his hips angled upward – and he came in spurts, following the crashing waves of warmth that washed through him. He felt like he was floating – his body weightless – and absently knew that Steve must be feeling the same.

 

Bucky dropped off to the side of Steve, falling onto the mattress and laying there as he slowly started to come down from his high – Steve’s face was once again tucked into his neck.  As the moments passed and they slowly returned to Earth, Bucky stretched himself out, languidly, for a moment as he pointed his toes downward and felt the strain in his legs ease. Once he was mostly sure that he could walk, he eased himself up from the bed – kissing Steve’s hand as the man reached out for him immediately. “I’ll be right back… just gonna get us cleaned up.”

 

Steve nodded tiredly, all but drained (emotionally rather than physically), and slowly let go of Bucky’s hand.

 

When he heard the shower running, the continuous sound lulled Steve into a stupor. By the time Bucky returned a short while later (clearly fresh out of the shower, though his hair was only slightly damp and bundled up in a high, loose, bun) with a damp wash cloth over his metal forearm, and carrying two large glasses of water with a couple of cookies precariously held between his teeth, Steve was all but asleep.

 

Bucky set the glasses down first, making sure they were safely positioned on the night stand, before taking the now slightly damp cookies out of the grip of his teeth. He eyed them for a moment, and shrugged. “Steve… Stevie, wake up.”

 

Steve groaned a little – not in displeasure, just the natural sound of trying to acknowledge Bucky through the need for sleep. Bucky chuckled slightly. “Wass’ron’…” Steve slurred as he nuzzled his way into Bucky’s pillow.

 

“Nothin’, Sweetheart. But I need ya to eat this” He held up the chocolate chip cookie. It was large, roughly the size of his metal palm, because he’d refused to follow the exact measurements when he baked them a few days prior.

 

Steve pushed himself up slowly, and reached out for the cookie.

 

“An’ drink this.” Bucky passed him one of the glasses of water, as Steve munched on the cookie sleepily. Steve accepted it, and drank it slowly. While Steve was preoccupied, Bucky lovingly wiped the mess off of him before tossing the wash cloth into the laundry hamper.

 

He crawled onto the bed again, and settled beside Steve as he picked up his own glass of water and cookie. Steve immediately snuggled into his side, resting his head on Bucky’s right shoulder as he slowly chewed the cookie and hummed with quiet contentment at the flavour of the semi-sweet chocolate bursting on his tongue. Bucky glanced down at Steve, who was snuggled there with his eyes closed, and smiled softly. He looped his arm around Steve’s broad shoulders and held him close.

 

When both cookies were gone, and the water drank, Bucky set the glasses on the nightstand far enough back away from the bed that they shouldn’t get knocked if either of them rolled in the night.

 

It was late, nearly quarter after four in the morning. Bucky yawned, and settled down against the pillows, guiding Steve down with him. He maneuvered the two of them, until Steve was all but draped over him like a blanket, and pulled the covers up over them. Steve snuggled closer, lying his ear over Bucky’s breast again and listening to the steady, strong, beating of his heart. He could fall asleep listening to that infallible pattern, as Bucky nosed lightly at his hair and reached up with one hand, tugging the elastic out of his own hair. He ruffled out his slightly heat-waved locks until they fell around his shoulders again. Steve sighed in content as he breathed in the soap-clean scent of Bucky’s skin – reveling in the warm and the feeling of the man solid and strong in his arms.

 

Steve was asleep within minutes, as Bucky lovingly stroked his spine. It wasn’t long before he, too, was asleep again.


End file.
